Remember me
by carolina-28
Summary: Merlin awakens in modern times and searches for a reincarnated Prince. He meets an old acquaintance along the way but are they friend or foe? Slash. Re-posted.
1. Arrival

Slash pairing (as always) Merlin/Arthur

Beta'd by kuhekabir & madtheo, thank you very much :)

Rating: K+

*****

The place was now deserted. Anyone with sense had left many hours before, for home or to gain shelter at the first glimpse of darkening clouds, the like of which had been forecast by the bespectacled weather man who had followed the previous night's news. Now in the quiet, murky neighbourhood there wasn't a soul to be seen. Well, except for the homeless man who lay under a bench, mercifully unconscious albeit still shuddering from the cold - he didn't register on anyone's radar, not even his own. The storm which was brewing hinted that it may prove forceful enough to disturb even that poor vagrant's self induced slumber. A bottle with a Russian inscription lay disregarded on the ground nearby

The earth now seemed to shake with every rumble and flashes intermittently lit up the blank sky: spastic lights across the British Isles flickered in an accompanying rhythm.  
Midnight: the witching hour, though this night it wasn't merely superstitious nonsense.

Suddenly a loud crack, reminiscent of hundreds of fireworks exploding simultaneously overtook the volume of nature's tantrum by decibels. A bleary, bloodshot eye opened and blinked repeatedly in disbelief before quickly sealing itself tightly shut; there had seemed to be an unnatural glow emitting from a tree in the distance.

Cautiously the beggar opened his eyes again and snorted at his foolishness. Everything was shrouded in darkness. No light to be seen. Even the flashes had ceased.

Grabbing at the cool, wet bottle he frowned in disgust as a mere drip landed on his tongue. If the good stuff was going to send him mad with visions then the least it could do was ensure it remained in plentiful supply to dull his awareness of the fact. He knew there was something inherently wrong with his logic but he had no interest in puzzling it out. Watching as the bottle rolled over slick grass, the beggar wriggled to try to achieve a more comfortable position. Well, as much as was possible whereas he lay on sodden ground.

His heart leapt as a flash of lightning lit his surroundings. His eyes somehow focused and he took in the remains of the Rowan: split open, bark torn at either side with a green liquid streaming down to soak into wet mossy grass.  
Deciding to block it out like everything else in his life, his eyes closed as he wrapped arms around his mid drift, willing himself to sleep.

Behind him a shadowed figure made its way slowly through the creaking gate swinging haphazardly in the wind. Once out of the park it came to a standstill as if uncertain of where to go next.

A pale arm that looked to be human rose to point a slender finger at the angry sky and within seconds there was quiet. Not even a hint of slightest breeze or a spot of rain.

A weak voice broke through the silence before its owner succumbed to exhaustion and slid onto hardened ground. _"Arthur."_

_  
*****_

_She cursed loudly and vehemently as she watched him fall, not due to any deeply felt concern but rather annoyance at not being more prepared._  
_How many times had she foreseen this, for goodness sake?_

_She should really know by now that she had little say and was merely an instrument for nature._  
_Well if the powers that be thought that lying outside in the early hours of the morn was beneficial, who was she to protest? _

_A swift pull of cord hid the scene and she moved away from the window to collect the bag which lay by the door. Moving swiftly, she heard a familiar raspy voice. "Go to him; he will need your guidance in this world." _

_The disembodied voice had spoken to her for as long as she could remember, whispered to her until, accompanied with her visions, she had known where her destiny lay. It was clear why she had been reborn: there was much to atone for. Nature had revolted against accepting the past and had been waiting ever since for an opportunity to reclaim its glory days and the rulers who had made it so, the ones who had been cut down prematurely in their prime. Her betrayal had led to this loss but she hoped to make amends. _

*****

The deathly silence was disturbed only by the sound of soft splashes and muffled groans. She slowed her pace now as she was almost upon him, suddenly nervous of how she would feel in his presence. It was all very well being aware of what one had to do but actually doing it was another matter. Emotions had a habit of swaying one's judgement: she knew that better than most.

He lay beside the entrance to the park and looked like a corpse, his body lain out as if in offering to the Gods.

Slender scarlet tipped fingers stroked back wayward ebony locks which fell damply over his ashen face. She drank in her fill. They had never met in this lifetime but she knew him, what lay in his heart and what he was. They had once been friends, then, at the end, bitter enemies.

Images burst forth, racing through her mind's eye: the man whose curls she toyed with stood to the right hand side of a lion of a man, their hands clasped tight as they revealed their mutual love to the occupants of the room. A banquet hall was the setting and she watched the doorway in expectance, already aware of what was to come. It flew open, revealing a slender figure draped in jewels and wearing a vibrant peacock-blue gown.

She never failed to gasp at the sight of herself or the sudden flash of raw feeling, and recalled the moment as clear as if it had been yesterday. Disbelief, hurt and then fury all washed over her and she struggled to breathe, hands twisting tightly now in the midnight thatch. It was hard to differentiate between reality and her visions. They were part of her, deeply etched into the fabric of her being until there was no division between her and the past she recalled with such intensity.

The eyes were watching her as she watched them from her knees on a hard pavement in north England. Temples pounded in sync; she could still taste the hatred and bitterness that she had felt that day. Arthur had chosen this man over her and nothing had been the same afterwards. It had thrown her into the arms of another and corrupted her soul. She had left that day only to return two years later with her lover to bring Camelot to its knees. She had paid dearly, watching the man she had desired over all others die in Merlin's arms. The pain of dying, of watching Nimueh fall, had barely impacted by comparison. She had realised where her jealousy had led her and regret had come too late.

"_Morgana."_ The low growl startled her, wiping away the pictures in her mind and her emotional response to the past. Her intangible companion always seemed to know when her visions were too upsetting and she needed to be ripped from their potency. She didn't know who the voice belonged to but knew for certain that it also was from the distant past; it knew the old ways, addressed her by her former name and spoke to her of her past life.

She understood the message behind the calling of her name and focused back on the man lying in front of her. Except that he was not merely a man but a sorcerer, the one who had killed her so long ago and taken the life of Nimueh.

Now wasn't the time to think on the past; he needed someone to watch over him whilst he slept and she could manage that at least.

A tiny vial was withdrawn from her handbag, and cradling a hand under his nape she murmured, "This will take away any pain."

She dripped a small amount onto his lips and was relieved to see it trickle inside and a pink tongue slip out to lick away the last trace. Reassured that he would take the rest of her potion, she slowly allowed the remainder to follow suit.

She wasn't physically strong enough to transport him to her flat so all she could do was wait for him to awaken. Only he could bring himself back into consciousness as his body would judge when it had fully recuperated. He had drained his very life force to be here, almost sucking it dry. Studying his profile, she wondered how so slight and fragile a person could wield such immensely powerful magic.

It was chilly and with reluctance she burrowed into his body for warmth. At least they could forgo the dubious delights of a thunderstorm. In the weeks leading up to now her visions had shown how he would bend nature itself to his will. The mere flick of his hand had sufficed and she had felt a combination of awe and apprehension at the affirmation.

Not fear; she refused to admit to that.


	2. A wary welcome

The moon bathed them with its glow as did several stuttering streetlights.

Her cheek lifted and then fell where it rested and with a start she was back in the present - not a time she frequented often. Feeling a breath ghost past her cheek, she was certain: He was awakening.

She noticed that the moonlight was shining brighter than ever before, almost like torchlight directed solely on them. For an instant the temperature had risen to an uncomfortable degree and the sound of birdsong filled the air. It seemed that nature was reacting in every possible way.

Carefully she surveyed their surroundings but in relief noted that there wasn't a soul in the immediate vicinity. It wasn't concern that anyone should see them but rather uncertainty regarding this man's reaction once fully awakened. Somehow she doubted that he would be keen to associate with her once he was aware of her identity. No matter, she wasn't concerned with making friends, just amends.

A low moan, fluttering lids and then she was under the scrutiny of vivid blue eyes which held no recognition in their depths as they scanned her face briefly before closing once more.

She heard a low murmur but had to ask him to repeat himself as it had been so quietly uttered.

A pause.

_"Where is he?" _She heard him this time and immediately knew the person he was appealing for. Swallowing, she ignored the pang of envy which crept into her heart and bit down hard on her lip as she fought to master her emotions.

*****

_  
Merlin's long repressed senses welcomed the influx of stimuli in a state of rapture. He breathed in the aroma of wet leaves and felt vibrancy in the air.  
Other smells confused him though and were unfamiliar as they teased his nostrils.  
_  
_An image of a man entered his head unbidden and a warm glow filled his heart as it always did when picturing the beloved face. Then he remembered and felt the heartache of that time and the soul searching which had led to his self imprisonment. He recalled his decision to bind himself within a tree, just a simple Rowan, in order to await the return of his soul mate. The spell he had cast had been the most pure of form - one created from love. _  
_  
His freedom would be granted when Arthur once more lived and walked the Earth as a young man. Merlin had decided that it would be too painful to watch him grow up and not be with him so had performed a second spell which would protect the Prince until they could be together once more. When the planning was done it had been time to sleep. _

_His sorrow dissipated as the realisation that Arthur was within reach sank in and he strained towards the light. _

Merlin sensed another presence nearby. He moaned and blinked numerous times before managing to successfully open his eyes. For several frustrating seconds everything was a blur, distorted as he allowed time for his sight to adjust. The face before his was a disappointment; it wasn't who he wanted to see even as he acknowledged that it had always been unlikely that he would awaken in Arthur's presence.

"_Where is he?" _He repeated his plea as she leaned closer and he observed a shadowed look enter her eyes only to be quashed in an instant. He couldn't restrain himself even whilst knowing the question to be a foolish one. The woman was a stranger and he was certainly nothing to her. She was probably thinking that she had stumbled across a madman.

All he remembered was exploding from the tree and then everything had turned black around the edges before complete darkness had surrounded him.

With considerable surprise he took in the thick blankets which enveloped him and provided cosy warmth. He had expected to be stiff and aching after resting in cramped conditions for such a lengthy period of time but here he was being cosseted? _Why_ was he and what motive lay behind it?

Perhaps _stumbled across _had been an inaccurate analysis of the situation and there was more here than met the eye. A small, smooth hand reached out and gripped tight, linking fingers as if completing a puzzle. The sizzle of magic was unmistakable and his eyes narrowed as he heard her indrawn breath. Suddenly he could see Camelot, the people he had loved and lost with a dazzling clarity. Mostly he saw Arthur.

Tightening his grip he allowed her to support him to stand. It was a smooth fluid movement and again the sorcerer puzzled over his physical well being which defied logic. His brain wasn't functioning as well as it should but he wasn't stupid. "I want answers." The charge which had zipped through their touch was not something he could ignore.

With an expression close to dread, her eyes remained fixed on his as she muttered for him to accompany her to her home where she would explain as best as she could. Merlin saw the fear but also a tinge of animosity. He would be on his guard.

*****

She felt his eyes boring into her back as they crossed the street to approach the entrance to her flat: subconsciously she straightened her spine and lifted her chin. Seeing him at such close quarters and in the flesh had affected her deeply despite her awareness that this day had been fast approaching.

What had taken her aback was how little he'd changed, physically at least. His hair was still raven, shaped around his ears and a fringe swept down to stop in a blunt cut that skimmed his eyes. The jolt as they touched had been unexpected and she had known that she wouldn't be able to conceal her true identity for long. It was inevitable that he would find out, indeed it was part of the plan, but she was human enough to want to delay what was bound to be a bitter confrontation.

The entrance hall was grimy, wallpaper cracked and peeled in patches and the carpet threadbare. She walked past so often that she no longer noticed but now she did in detail and with mortification. Her job as a nurse didn't pay well and this accommodation was all she could afford.

The staff nurse on her ward had offered her the use of a room after one occasion when she had given her a lift home, but it had been turned down with a simple shake of the head. She knew that her colleagues hadn't understood her desire to stay in such miserable surroundings when there was more comfortable accommodation available; however, it wasn't the condition that was important. It was the location. The view from her window was invaluable; it looked onto a certain local park.

They hadn't spoken for about ten minutes and he made no sound behind her as they climbed the stairs to her rooms.

"_Courage, Morgana." _The familiar tone prodded her on now with the slightest tinge of impatience. Taking a deep breath, she turned her key in the lock and gestured for him to enter.

He scanned her belongings with an expression of detached interest before turning to her with intent in his eyes, signalling his determination to discover the truth.

"Who are you?"

A tense shrug. "No one...Sarah...I was closing my blinds when I saw you lying on the ground...I thought I'd better check..." Why was he just... _staring? _

"Sarah?" A brow quirked to disappear into messy fringe. _"Really?" _

How did he manage to make her feel like a liar; she had been christened with the name. Then she wondered if he hadn't also been questioning her explanation.

Beckoning for him to sit, she waited for him to do so before sliding into her favourite armchair which was ancient and had long lost its springy comfort. It was a startling red that reminded her of things she didn't want to forget, in particular, a leather jacket which had been swung around her shoulders to keep her warm as a masculine hand ruffled her rippling locks. Without conscious thought she twirled short raven curls around a finger.

Her hand moved to stroke along an arm of the chair, feeling the small rips in the fabric, dipping into the spongy stuffing underneath. She snuggled the large squishy cushion which was held between her and the pale man who hadn't taken his gaze from her since entering the flat. Squeezing ever tighter, she couldn't help a twisted smile as she realised that her makeshift barrier was unlikely to protect her from the warlock who sat on her floral print armchair practically piercing her with his stare.

"Lovely colour, isn't it?" Blue eyes flicked from her to the chair and then up to her face.

The suddenness of the question threw her as did the unnerving fact that it so closely matched what she herself thought when studying the chair in question. "Oh...yes, red. I like red."

It was a good thing it was dim in the room as she was sure her entire body was now suffused in the colour if not actually beaming it through her clothing. _I like red?_

An infinitesimal twitch of his lips was the only noticeable reaction to her comment and obvious embarrassment_. _

"Would you answer some questions for me?" His raised eyebrow challenged her to say no.

The voice in her head screamed for her to tell him _everything. _

Knowing that delaying would only heighten her unease… "All right... I haven't quite told you the truth."

"_Really,_ Sarah, I would never have guessed." His words were soaked with sarcasm and he was sitting at the edge of his seat watching her with unblinking eyes.

She felt angry at herself for feeling so intimidated; she didn't let anything or anyone gain that advantage. It was ironic as she recalled a time when Merlin had been the gentle, vulnerable one. Not magically of course, but in terms of confidence and self possession she had been far superior.

It may have been a mere five minutes which passed or more; her racing thoughts had ensured she lost all track of time until she had been swept up yet again in the past. So much of her life was taken up with what had come before.


	3. Uneasy alliance

On the surface the man sitting across from her looked calm, as if nothing could penetrate his cool collection. He was, however, projecting an aura which was positively brimming with intensity.

"I…I'm..." she stuttered.

"_Yes_ …_**tell him,**__" the_ voice prodded her on.

"Promise you'll wait until I'm done, listen…_please?"_ It stuck in her throat but she knew it was necessary and to soothe her indignant pride she shot him a fierce look through narrowed eyes. When he inclined his dark head she swallowed and gripped at the chair until she felt her nails dig in deep.

"I'm going to tell you a story; it's about a young girl born alone with no family_._ Her life was one of loneliness until she was taken under the guardianship of a tyrant."

Another nervous swallow then.

"There was a boy, who was almost like a brother, and he gradually crept past the girl's haughty defences until he meant more than even she could possibly have foreseen..."

The lick of flames was sudden and she felt it keenly and with some trepidation. Darting her eyes away, she bit her lip before carrying on when it was evident Merlin wasn't going to speak. She told him everything: who she was and what she believed she had to do. Merlin had remained silent throughout; the earlier flash of warmth his sole reaction. She hadn't been able to bring herself to meet his eyes as she nervously awaited his judgement.

Morgana sneaked a peek fearing the worst, only to gasp as she stared directly into eyes a mere fraction from her own. Time seemed to freeze and the atmosphere grew thick with tension. Eyes shifted as she sought to escape his uncomfortable, piercing regard.

Her unease heightened and suddenly she had to speak…fill the silence.

"I'll help you find him." She watched his expression alter to one of confusion as if he were still processing what she had told him and was trying to catch up with what she was saying.

"Arthur," she stared solemnly, "I'll help you find him."

His eyes flamed into gold and it was too late to take it back. She had realised her mistake immediately: in the warlock's view, she would have no right to utter that name.

"_Enough!" _

A frame shook before clattering onto the wooden floor; her lampshade swung as the bulb concealed within exploded with a sudden crack of sound. The shards rained down barely missing the space where she sat still as if turned to stone.

Morgana shrank back instinctively as he sought to master his emotions. She watched his attempt to regain his composure with awe as she realised just how vulnerable she actually was and just how much restraint he had been exacting. Merlin's eyes were cooling now to their usual blue and his hands clenched spasmodically. Her gift of foresight suddenly seemed paltry beside such power.

She waited now: the woman scorned who had conspired with the enemy to kill his lover. It was with uncertainty she battled as her visions had not let her glimpse this encounter or where her end lay or when.

*********

Merlin saw the fear in her eyes and knew it to be prudent as he struggled to contain his magic. He had known deep down from the start…_Morgana._ Little had altered superficially, even her colouring was similar, but he hoped, as he reigned in his temper, that in other ways she had changed. _Back then_ her soul had become black as pitch.

Gradually he relaxed enough to look at her without feeling the need to lash out. The name she had uttered echoed through his mind but this time it didn't anger him.

Easing himself backward he paced to the window, needing a moment of respite to deal with his conflicting emotions. Merlin watched as the covering flew upward to reveal the world he must now call home.

_Home._

It had been Arthur who had taught him how to master his emotions and recalling now an instance calmed him as nothing else could.

_"To show emotion is a weakness!"_

_All the while Arthur had been stroking tenderly down a milky arm. Merlin had laughed watching the love lit expression in those blue eyes._

_"You set a good example, Sire."_

_That had earnt him a smack on the behind and a pout although his lover would never have owned up to that latter display of petulance. He was a King after all and above such childish acts._

Turning at the murmur of his name, he sighed. She crept slowly towards him, no doubt fearing the worst. He knew that he should be questioning her, getting answers…yet somehow it didn't matter. His eyes narrowed as she stopped in front of him, meeting his stare with a beseeching look. It was a surreal situation to be standing in front of the person you had killed in passionate vengeance.

He knew that Nimueh had had to die but he regretted his part in this woman's demise. It had taken time for him to acknowledge that he had been wrong; despite the part she had played she had deserved a fair trial. Morgana had been driven by jealousy and hurt over Arthur's rejection unlike her lover who had been striving to satiate her thirst for power and the destruction of those who opposed her. To put it simply, Nimueh had been one evil bitch and Morgana her puppet - someone to use.

He had pondered over his actions, wishing them undone. He couldn't forgive but he no longer wanted her dead, which was why he was standing, just observing, rather than acting in the aggressive manner she seemed to expect judging by her body language. With his mind lingering on past regrets and second chances …

"I'm willing to work together if you are intending to help, _not_ _hinder,_ my search." He looked pointedly at her.

Did she really want to help him find Arthur or was she going to revert back to the jealous, vengeful Morgana once they had discovered him? Merlin couldn't consider the possibility that they wouldn't succeed …he had no choice but to trust her. The need to be with his love was a constant ache after so long apart. To know that Arthur was alive, but without the certainty of where, was torture.

"I think we understand each other." She reached out a hand slowly and a spark flew between their palms as Merlin clasped her palm.

He felt her shudder as her body betrayed what her eyes fiercely denied.

Fear.

*****

Two months had passed, slowly, unbearably, with no sign that they were any nearer to discovering Arthur's whereabouts.

He had prodded, gently at first, asking Morgana if she knew anything, if she had the smallest inkling of where to start looking. As the weeks passed and he blindly searched with no success his patience was beginning to fracture, splintering into tiny pieces. Every time he saw a man who resembled Arthur he would feel his legs move of their own accord as butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He had travelled to every Continent, left no stone unturned or so he thought; he had found only disappointment every time. Merlin knew, and this was no idle boast, that he was the most powerful being in existence and yet at the same time he was completely impotent.

She had told him about the voice which had led to her knowing of his impending arrival and how it had been a constant throughout her life. Immediately he had felt suspicion and had reminded her that you couldn't trust what could not be seen. He had acknowledged her mutter that trust was fragile regardless of how tangible the relationship.

It was frustrating that the voice had decided at his arrival to suddenly cease to communicate.

*****

Morgana tossed and turned fitfully, wondering why the voice no longer whispered. It hadn't since Merlin's arrival and now that she desperately needed guidance there was none to be found. Merlin, despite his glow of magic, was in the dark regarding this world, which still managed to confuse and bewilder him.

Her grudging respect didn't allow for complete amnesia of the past and she couldn't say she thought warmly of him exactly. At times she would forget and smile as he displayed astonishment at her belongings which were new to him, such as the workings of her DVD player, but then his expression would turn soulful and she knew, just knew, that he was thinking of _him_. That reminder was enough to freeze her blood.

He had turned up at her work one day out of the blue and had instantly been adopted by the majority of the nursing staff. Morgana had stared in disbelief as before her eyes the all powerful sorcerer had turned into the shy, hesitant servant she had once known. He had twisted woman and man alike around his little finger, blinking bambi eyes and nervously gnawing on his lower lip as he muttered hello.

Merlin had appeared confused when she had challenged him later that evening as to why he was pretending to be something he wasn't and then later she had realised the truth as she watched him interact with other people they came into contact with.

It _wasn't_ an act; Merlin was still _Merlin_ with everyone else. It was with her that he was hard and suspicious. It was, she supposed, due to the past. Merlin had always been extremely protective towards Arthur regardless of the state of their relationship, whether it be as the King's manservant or his paramour. He hadn't forgiven her past self and was still rebuilding his trust in her now.

Stuffing her head underneath her pillow she froze at the sound of her name.

"_Morgana, it is time…"_


	4. Honesty & Hope

_One week later…_

Moving soundlessly down the hallway she yanked open the fridge to take hold of a couple of bottles, one of which she twisted open after flopping down onto the sofa.

Reaching for another bottle she gulped down the cool liquid hoping that she would finally manage a restful sleep. One without painful memories or present guilt guaranteed to make her wake with shadows smudged under her eyes.

Sliding sideways she frowned as her hand knocked against something cool and then a loud smash reverberated around the room. Wincing she lifted her feet away from the debris and noted thankfully that they were untouched by the scattered glass.

Then she broke: the weeping started and she knew this couldn't go on, she couldn't continue to lie to herself, to Merlin. She owed it to them both and for once she would put her own feelings towards Arthur aside. It was time she accepted that he had always wanted Merlin.

*****

Something woke him from a restless sleep which had been filled with images of soft lips near his but which never quite touched.

Frustrated, he stood and moved through to the kitchen to search for a drink or something to send him into a dreamless state. Then the reason for his abrupt wakefulness became clear as he noticed the figure lying on the sofa, head in hands and broken bottle smashed and lying jagged on thin carpet. The moan was so low he could barely be certain it _was _one, but he moved closer to check that she was unharmed before attempting to ask what had happened.

"Morgana?"

The tensing of her frame suggested that she hadn't been aware of his presence but as he sat down beside her on the sofa he was surprised to feel her shuffle nearer to bury her face in his chest.

"Morga…" This time her sob was clear as a bell and he wondered what could have possibly made this woman break in such a way. Merlin had come to see the strong person she was and was beginning to acknowledge that she was to be considered and judged separately from the woman he had once known; he had seen first hand the work she did at the local children's hospital and the kindness she was capable of.

They rested there for what felt like hours but as the chime recorded the time he realised that he had left his room scarcely ten minutes before. Her wet eyes peered up at him and he shifted, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Wait…_please."_

The unfamiliarity of the word on her lips made him pause but he was still going to leave when he heard her say it; whisper it with a pain filled look in her eyes.

*******

"Since when?"

It was his turn to whisper as he tried to assimilate what he was being told.

Morgana knew where to find Arthur.

"Since _when_?"

Merlin watched her carefully for any signs that she was lying to him and frowned as her face whitened. He could feel his temper rising.

"_Tell me _you haven't been keeping this from me all this time?!" His voice was unsteady as was his grip on his magic as he awaited her reply.

If anything she grew paler still and seemed unable to stop her hiccupping sobs.

"N...no - just found out...week ago...had to tell you." Another tear escaped to run a trail down over a high cheekbone.

The warlock was finding it difficult to restrain himself from grabbing her and demanding that she tell him _now_ where to find Arthur. Looking at her, repressed anger mixing with pity, he could hazard as to why she would keep the information to herself although he wasn't sure why she suddenly had had a change of heart.

Was she telling the truth now? Did she really want to help?

Rising from the sofa, he paced back and forth and watched as she swept up the shards of glass before tossing them in the bin. She had stopped crying but the skin under her eyes was puffy and red whilst her cheeks shimmered with drying tears.

"Where is he?" His previous question really wasn't important he decided. Merlin didn't care about her reasons or how long she'd known, it mattered not a whit when he was so near to seeing Arthur.

"I was going to tell you, really, but..." Her hands pushed through her hair in agitated movements as she watched him, part apprehensive, part defiant.

A slicing motion and she was quiet, cut off as his glare intensified and he repeated his demand in a low snarl.

She gestured for him to sit with a wave of her hand. "It was last Thursday. I…I was told that it was time and where…"

"Where to find him?" He finished her sentence for her as he squeezed his hands together painfully, tightly, to prevent himself from wringing her neck. He had trusted her, damn it, despite _knowing_ what she was like. He hadn't been stupid enough to have considered them friends but he had believed that they had reached a truce.

"Your voice spoke to you then," he mocked. "How do I know that I can trust it? For all I know it doesn't even exist or this is some cunning plot to finally have your revenge."

Morgana's reaction was quick and unexpected. "You fool; _yes_ I was an idiot but I have done nothing but be honest with you since we met again. I've not pretended that I'm your new best friend and it was only…" Here she trailed away and Merlin watched her avidly to determine her sincerity.

"It was only," she inhaled deeply; "because I was worried about how I would react seeing you both together again and the potential pain I may cause that made me hesitate to tell you."

"I know that it is right… that you should… be with… Arthur, but I'm uncertain as to how it'll affect me when I see you with him; if I'll still be…_me._"

He realised then as he registered the starkness of her words that she was fighting herself and her own potential for doing harm. Putting off what she feared to test. Her heart still lay with Arthur and the feelings she had held so long ago were are real to her as his own. The difference now was that she didn't want to hurt him and was attempting to fight her jealousy, not give in to it.

"Well it's reassuring that you don't _want_ to kill me." He lifted an eyebrow to show that he was no longer angry.

Her laugh was a mixture between a croak and a sob and she smiled hesitantly as he offered out his hand.

"Now if I'm to believe you, you can tell me where he is?" Merlin couldn't prevent the excitement which coloured his words.

It still annoyed him that he could have already been reunited with his King but the realisation that that time was now meant his eagerness quickly overshadowed such feelings.

*****

_London, Tower Bridge_

Tower Bridge. It was amazingly grand and ostentatious in its design and the décor inside was sumptuous.

They were there for a celebration of some sort. Morgana had said that it hadn't been clear but she had been told that this would be where they would find the lost King. They had had no choice but to accept it as truth and she had told him that she hadn't heard from her source since that night. Merlin believed her.

They walked to the venue from the hotel which Morgana had booked under Sarah Emrys - a cross between their names. When he protested that she shouldn't be paying, he found himself on the receiving end of a fierce glare. Morgana told him that she had been saving for a long time for this day '_so just shut up and accept my help."_


	5. Awareness

Merlin hadn't hugged or thanked her as he knew that she wouldn't be comfortable with such displays. Instead he treated her in a respectful manner, more so than before. It seemed that she had been surviving on little money and had been saving what she could for the day he would come back. Merlin was thankful and had tried to make it easier for her by not openly discussing Arthur, which had proved difficult as he had been buzzing with anticipation right up until tonight.

His hands were shaking as he nervously brushed imaginary fluff from his elegant, black dinner jacket.

He had let Morgana dress him as such attire was foreign to him, as most things were that he had encountered in this world. For a moment she had stared, slack jawed, then she had smiled sadly and told him he looked _bloody brilliant. _His insecurity over his looksmeant that he refused to believe her but when he studied himself in the standing, full length mirror which she spun him to face he had let out a sigh of relief. He didn't look like an idiot.

"Stop fidgeting; you'll ruin the lines of the jacket." The soft hiss behind him made him smile and he squeezed the hand which rested in his own, accepting what it was: reassurance.

He was glad that she was with him as he had never felt so out of his depth. Even back in Camelot when he had been accepted as Arthur's paramour he had found formal functions a strain and had never enjoyed them. He had preferred it when it had been just the two of them, lying on the great four poster bed which Arthur had had made specially, whilst they fed each other from a large platter.

The people in front of him were all similarly clothed in tuxedos or elegant gowns; it was obvious that tonight he would be socialising with the cream of London society.

They were currently awaiting entry to the ballroom where the party would gather for drinks before progressing through to the banquet hall for the meal. The warlock's hands began to shake and he began to feel nauseous as the time drew nearer for them to enter. Another squeeze on his hand and he turned to see that Morgana was studying him in concern. Immediately she schooled her expression, and frowning at him told Merlin to pull himself together.

He wasn't fooled by her gruff exterior.

Lost in his own thoughts he started as he felt himself being pulled forwards.

"It's time," Morgana hissed. "We'll find him Merlin, if it's the last thing we do."

The small, slightly overweight man holding a leather bound book in his hands politely asked for their names. Merlin had on arrival uttered a few well chosen words and was confident as he stated who they were.

_"Lord and Lady Emrys."_

He felt his face flush at the lie.

"I know what you're thinking and stop. I am a Lady and you're one better: you are the paramour of a King."

He smiled, instantly relaxing as she growled quietly but somehow managed to maintain a charming smile. She really did look stunning.  
Again he was thankful for her presence.

His eyes swept the room, taking in a mirage of faces, some beautiful, other's not so, but more importantly they weren't Arthur. Then it hit him. Maybe he wouldn't recognise his love, even if he stood in front of him. Merlin looked the same, as he had been merely sleeping but Arthur had been reborn; he was brand new, physically at least. Then he remembered Morgana and hoped that it would be similar with Arthur, that he would retain some of his features or colouring from before. It would make his search much quicker if his love didn't look like a stranger.

Merlin swiped a glass of champagne from a passing tray ensuring he also got one for his partner of the evening. Taking a quick gulp, he began to choke and immediately lurched forward as smacks were smartly applied to his back.

"_Morgana._" His glare was brushed off with a shrug as he regained his composure.

They had discussed whether she should go by Sarah, her legal name, or her more ancient moniker. It had been decided that they would use Morgana as Merlin thought of her as such; it would be too confusing to change now and very likely that there would be a slip of the tongue.

He grimaced at the lingering taste in his mouth and decided to forgo reaching for a second crystal goblet. Morgana's smirk told him that he had made a faux pas but his small outburst had only taken up the attention of a small section of the assembled crowd and only for a moment.

His close study of the occupants of the room had delivered no reward as yet but the sheer multitude of people meant that he couldn't possibly have seen everyone so far. As a livered servant passed him he reached out to place his unfinished drink onto the gleaming tray.

The man, without ever looking him in the eye murmured, "Sir, the toast is imminent do you not wish to have a drink on hand?"

Merlin supposed that the waiter was referring to whatever this evening was in aid of. He knew it was a celebratory event of some sort and had overheard several of the invited guests' conversations which seemed to be hinting that this was perhaps an engagement party? It wasn't important to him what it was for as long as he found Arthur.

He reclaimed his glass and turned at the sound of a musical ringing echoing throughout the room. His gaze stopped and then focused on a small party sitting at a table in a secluded corner. An older gentleman was standing with glass in hand having announced his impending speech. Merlin had no choice but to remain where he was for the moment; his search could continue after this man had spoken.

The touch at his elbow signalled Morgana's approach. She had a glass of wine in hand and had somehow managed to find some food as she was nibbling on a handful of cashews. His pointed look at her snack brought forth yet another shrug. They both looked away as the man began to speak into the now hushed silence.

"Ladies and Gentleman, Lords and Ladies, we are honoured to have your presence here this fine evening in order to celebrate the upcoming nuptials of my grandson."

Rippling applause died down as a hand was raised.

"He is not here at present having been late on arrival back from Prague but is due imminently." He went on to say that as a result the toasts would be given later on during the meal.

Throughout, Merlin had been taking in the other people who sat at the circular table wondering who they were and if they knew his Arthur. There were two men and three women all appearing to be in their early to mid-twenties.

Studying their faces he was disappointed to feel no recognition. Sighing, he turned to Morgana, whispering, "I'm going outside for some fresh air."

Her furrowed brow showed her displeasure at being left alone but she seemed to understand that he needed time. "I'll keep looking until you return."

He nodded and murmured that he wouldn't be long.

Leaving the ballroom, struggling through the sea of bodies, he entered a hallway which was also teaming with people, mostly staff. Ye Gods, he really needed quiet. Wriggling past a tight knit group, he pushed through a doorway with no idea of where he was going. Leaning against a wall he shut his eyes, counting to ten and desperately wondering if Arthur really _was_ here.

Memories flooded through his mind of them both together, of him lying in a secure, loving embrace. He was being an idiot, every type of fool, and resolved to get back in there to continue his search.

"_Excuse me, are you lost?" _

One eyelid lifted and he scanned his surroundings properly for the first time since entering the room. He was in a suite, lavishly furnished and right now empty apart from the owner of that voice. Merlin stared at the man who stood by the window, holding back a gasp as let his widening eyes drift over him. He wasn't an exact duplicate, but this man…this man reminded him of Arthur.

He couldn't move; his heart was racing.

Moving nearer he leant out a hand to brush back a golden lock of hair which swept over one eye giving the man a boyish charm. About to speak, blind to everything but the man in front of him, he failed to hear the footsteps behind him.

The pale eyes locked with his darker gaze and Merlin wondered for a second as a conflicted look entered their depths.

Then everything went black.

*****

"Did you have to knock him unconscious, Ritchie? He meant no harm."

The anger was evident and Merlin puzzled over who was speaking. It was a pleasant voice, deep and husky to the ear. Then another person was responding, also annoyed but somehow deferential.

"It's my job, Sir; I couldn't just allow a complete stranger into your suite and approach you."

The pounding in his head was lessening and he felt confused and unsure as to where he was. Then it all came flooding back, as did the realisation that he had found Arthur. He was positive it had been him. Have to get to him_ - move_ damn it! Merlin urged his eyes to open and his body to rise but neither were cooperating.

"I think that we have signs of life." The second man was speaking. "Why don't you get out there where you belong? Marianne will be wondering where you are."

Merlin could feel the glower that must have accompanied the other man's response.

"Fine, but just a reminder: I'm the boss." A grunt then. "See that you don't do him any more harm. I'm sure that he stumbled in here by accident and he seemed confused."

Warm breath coasted over his forehead sending shivers down Merlin's spine.

"He certainly wouldn't make a good burglar if his lack of stealth is any judge and he looked upset by something when he stumbled in."

The feeling of loss was overwhelming as he heard a door softly click shut.

"Wakey, wakey, sunshine."

Merlin cautiously opened his eyes. It was mainly his need to follow the man who had just vacated the room that enabled him to finally do so. The man who stood before him could only be described as huge, muscled and thickly set. He stared at Merlin carefully, studying him as if trying to judge his character with one sweeping look.

"Maybe sunshine isn't the best name for you after all," he muttered taking in the midnight hair and pale complexion. "I'll have to check your identity and why exactly you were found trespassing in a private room."

He managed to croak out that his name was Merlin Emrys and that he hadn't realised he had entered a private suite. The nod in response was brief.

"I'll still have to check it out. Stay here for a bit until I return and I'll send someone in to make you more comfortable."

He left the room with a loud thud.

Merlin knew, as he heard the door swing open once more, that it wasn't about his comfort at all but to ensure he didn't take off. Certainly the man approaching him was no nursemaid.

Sinking back onto the soft pillow he forced himself to wait although he could have easily left the room at any time. Overpowering them would have been simplicity itself. He didn't want to cause a scene though, not until he had ascertained that it really was Arthur. Besides, he recalled with pain, the man who he believed to be his love hadn't shown the slightest bit of recognition when he had approached.

Thank goodness they had thought to legitimise his identity as well as add their names to the list of invitees. Anyone digging would discover that he was a wealthy and happily married Lord of the realm.

*****

His head ached and he got to his feet as a strong hand gripped his, pulling him up.

"Sorry, Sir, didn't realise that I had assaulted a Lord, but you do understand that I was only doing my duty?"

Merlin's brain seemed to be operating more slowly than usual but after momentary confusion at this comment he remembered that he was meant to be Lord Emrys.

He nodded his acceptance of this explanation and quickened his pace towards the door.

Then he paused.

"Exactly how long have I been here?" Fleeting panic rose in his belly as he wondered if the other man had already left.

His relief at hearing that it had been merely a half hour was immense.


	6. Like coming home

Final chapter…slash warning as usual

*****

They sat at a circular dining table, one of many scattered around the vast banquet hall. Morgana was picking at her food in a sulk as her dining partner had refused to reveal why he had been away so long. Even though he was aware that her continued assistance gave her the right to know about the brief whirlwind of events just passed, a part of him felt the need to clutch his new-found knowledge tight and savour it, even if only for a few more minutes.

Then Merlin stilled; his heart leapt to a faster beat and he stared in exhilarated trepidation across the crowded space.

He was fairly tall, only a few inches shorter than his own 6ft 2, with fair hair that curled around his nape and clear, light blue eyes. The warlock couldn't move, couldn't still his racing heart. Pale eyes locked with his own darker gaze; was that recognition he could see or was it wishful thinking?

It _was_…_must _be him. His magic was reaching out, demanding that he pull the other man close to satisfy its desperate hunger. They had always been a perfect fit.

Only the width of the room separated them and Merlin watched the gap narrow as he forced himself to wait, the grip on his self control tenuous at best. He took in his fill, growing warmer and feeling himself flush uncontrollably as the other man walked nearer, _nearer_…**nearer. **_Please let him remember me._ It was prayerful and deeply felt.

He stopped at their table, almost looming over Merlin's seat; he could feel Morgana tense.

A warm hand enfolded his and everything, his heart, his head and his magic went haywire before a remote calmness settled over him. "Hi, pleased you meet you properly. I'm Richard Armitage. Are you okay? Ritchie treated you well, I hope, after I left?"

It seemed as if he also had been affected as he latched on, gripping almost painfully tight. His eyes were blazing with awareness as he stared at the slender man before him, a smile of pleasure hinting at his fascination.

"He was fine, thank you, and I'm Merlin Emrys. The pleasure is mine. I trust you'll forgive the unfortunate instance of my trespassing in your private rooms." He was relieved to receive a dismissive shrug in response. The fleeting thought that his entire presence here was trespassing crossed his mind and he hoped his smile would be construed as simple friendliness.

Somehow he was still speaking calmly and not revealing the intensity of his reaction to being so near to his soul mate. Making it difficult was the remembered intimacy they had shared and his obvious attraction and Merlin almost squeaked as the hand in his gave one final squeeze.

The warlock felt their bond begin to reinstate itself with a vengeance. Was it coming from Arthur, too? Reluctantly he pulled back, noting the pallid sheen that had begun to wash over the underlying bone deep tan.

"What was that - it was like an electric shock." Rose bloomed high on his cheekbones, erasing all signs of pallor as Richard blushed, obviously thinking that he had sounded like he was attempting a cheesy pick up line.

Ignoring the questioning statement, Merlin met his eyes with an earnest expression in their depths. "Would I be able to speak with you in private?"

He felt awash with relief when the other man nodded, his fervid gaze never wavering from the wizard's. Standing, he felt an arm at his elbow. It was Morgana.

"I'm coming too." Her mouth was set but she leaned in close before he could warn her off. "It's not what you think; I believe that I can help."

He frowned, studying her, wondering what it was she thought she could do, then decided to accept her offer; he would welcome any proffered assistance, conventional or magical, with restoring Richard's memories.

Richard seemed dismayed and although he had given her a brief polite smile when he had first approached, his attention had thereafter been taken up with Merlin.

"Come with me. I'll take you someplace more private where we can talk."

*****

The pitter patter of rain hit the windows, droplets running down the pane creating ripples and streaks on the glass. They made themselves comfortable in the same suite Merlin had walked into previously.

It was Richard who spoke first.

"This is going to sound strange and I can't believe that I'm even going to say it, but I feel like I know you even though I've only spoken to you briefly and I am fairly certain we've never crossed paths."

Merlin looked at him, unsure of how much to tell him or if he would even believe him. What he really wanted to do was _show_ him but he was uncertain of how to do this in a manner that wouldn't scare him off.

Then a thought crossed his mind and he scowled.

"Who's Marianne?"

*****

He watched this man whom he barely knew and wondered what to say or how to explain what had just happened to him. His initial reaction to meeting Merlin had been one of surprise; he wasn't used to reacting so strongly to someone's mere presence. His bodyguard's reminder that he had responsibilities had re-focused his mind and he had left quickly telling himself that he was being foolish.

Then he had seen the source of his confusion enter the banquet hall and if the churning in his stomach hadn't convinced him of his need, then his reaction to the woman holding onto the other man's arm would have done so. He had wanted to march up and claim him, command the woman leave. In his line of work he was used to having people obey him but somehow he managed to restrain himself and even to be polite, if dismissive, to the woman upon reaching the table although he had felt a flare of annoyance when she had demanded to go with them.

The one positive was that they didn't appear to be a couple after all, and in fact, he felt the woman's avid stares on his person almost as strongly as Merlin's.

He felt almost defensive as a wave of guilt surged as he viewed the other man's serious expression. "Marianne? She's my brother's fiancée." Belatedly he realised that Merlin had believed her to be his fiancée and thus, this was Richard's engagement party.

It struck him that here they were: two strangers circling each other warily, testing the waters as if they had the right to demand answers of the other.

"Oh…" Merlin turned to the woman, speaking in tones too low for the other man to hear. She was frowning and nodding and leant close herself to murmur something quietly in response and Richard could feel himself tensing up, his lips tightening as he watched the exchange.

You two seem to need a moment so why don't I just head back? They'll be missing me by now and in any case, you both seem otherwise engaged." He knew he sounded like a petulant child and wasn't sure he cared. He saw a slight smirk twist the other man's mouth.

"No, it's fine. Morgana has an idea that may help you come to a better understanding of what this all means. I believe that by showing you the truth in this way you may remember…"

Merlin looked so hopeful that Richard's irritation quickly faded. Then he wondered what he meant by 'remember'.

He watched as the woman approached where he sat, avoiding his scrutiny as she reached to take his hands. Her eyes closed and she began whispering under her breath, her voice almost inaudible in the quiet of the room. Turning to Merlin he started and almost reached out as he saw the strain on his face. Fighting for composure, he felt his own face pale as he wondered fearfully what he had gotten himself into. Intense emotions that he couldn't begin to name buffeted him until he thought he would collapse under their combined weight.

His eyelids felt heavy and after fighting the urge to close them for a moment, he finally submitted to the need to sleep.

A voice was calling his name through the haze. No, that wasn't right. His name wasn't Arthur…was it? It was so familiar somehow.

What happened next filled him first with disbelief and then eventually acceptance as his whole life flashed through his mind in vivid detail. His life as Arthur Pendragon.

There were images of war, arguments with his father and servants alike, rides through the countryside speaking to his people; but the overwhelming theme of the story was Merlin. The same Merlin who sat across from him, talking him through this experience with reassurance and love in his voice.

He watched his first real meeting with him…his servant…and felt ashamed as he watched the bully he had once been. There was a lot of teasing, pranks and loving glances exchanged but without any actual admittance to what lay hot and urgent underneath, waiting to burst free.

This dance around each other went on for some time until suddenly he could see a room and he watched as the manservant entered to begin his chores. He worked diligently at first, picking up fallen clothes, clearing the breakfast dishes; then suddenly, seemingly without any help from him, the broom began to sweep as Merlin moved to the window to open it a notch, inviting in the fresh air.

He could see the door open, but the servant did not and his former self stood frozen as he surveyed the scene. Part of him in the here and now wanted to deny it but Richard knew it was real and not only that- he _could feel_ it. As he watched, a clearing of the throat broke the silence and the servant spun round to stare in horror at his master. They locked gazes in silence until Merlin seemed to panic, and after babbling an apology made to scamper from the room. He didn't get far.

Richard watched in shame and regret as his former self rounded on the hapless servant, grabbing a handful of tunic and shoving him back into the room. His dismay increased as he witnessed 'Arthur's' reaction to being faced with blatant sorcery. The tirade that followed was cringe inducing and the feelings of shock, anger, and above all _hurt_ that came with the vision were powerful; the knowledge that Merlin hadn't trusted him enough to reveal such an intrinsic part of who he was to the Prince, his _friend_, was a crushing blow indeed.

As the warlock's strove to defend himself, it was obvious that the exchange between the two was growing dangerously heated and Merlin made another try for the door. Then the Prince's hands were on his shoulders and he was standing close; too close and suddenly, with head spinning speed, everything changed. The Prince…_he_…swept him up only to deposit his burden on his bed. It was with a mixture of apprehension followed by tenderness and arousal that Richard watched the significance of this interplay between the two men. It was here that Arthur had discovered Merlin's magic and claimed the warlock for his own.

Several times he watched as Merlin was brought to his bed only for Arthur to become aloof once more. This continued for several weeks until an ultimatum was posed and the threat of losing Merlin brought the Prince to his senses. The pain of potentially losing his lover far surpassed any lingering anger as he had watched Merlin announce he was leaving for Ealdor. The happiness that followed was blissful, especially after Uther had passed on and laws could be altered. Richard had found himself drifting along, enjoying the images of love and the sweetness of Merlin's voice in his ear.

Then he was in hell.

*****

"We have to awaken him Morgana; he can't see _any_ of it!"

Morgana shook her head sadly. "He has to see it all to understand fully who he is and his link to you. It is what I've been told."

Merlin watched him shudder and moan his way through the memories of that time when Nimueh had come to destroy life in Camelot as they had known it. Terror and helplessness gripped him when he realized that Richard, no, _**Arthur**_ was experiencing his death once again. He gripped Arthur's hand tightly and spoke nonsensical words of love, anything that crossed his mind.

Then, _finally,_ he was calm.

*****

His head was pounding and with a low groan Arthur managed to force open his eyes. He looked to the man who had and did mean so much and found his eyes reluctant to leave him. He remembered _everything._

Stress was evident in every line of Merlin's face and he found the sight unbearable. Leaning forward he pulled Merlin in closer and wrapped his arms around him.

A sudden crack of lightning lit up the dimly lit room…nature was finally appeased by this re-forging of an ancient magical bond.

The other man didn't let go and outside the thunder began to rumble in earnest, gradually building momentum. For a moment nothing was said but a conversation went on between the two men regardless. Their eyes told each other all and their sheer joy was more majestic than the thunderstorm.

*****

Morgana had stepped back to view them from the doorway. For an instant, as she watched their embrace, the agonizing clench around her heart had been overwhelming but she had fought the feeling.

That was the lesson she had learnt: in order for the one's she loved to be happy, to be content with their choices, she needed to acknowledge their dreams and desires; help them, not hinder them, even if they didn't fall in line with her own hopes and passions.

"_Well done, Morgana; you have fulfilled your current destiny. The land is contented once more."_

She smiled, blinking away her relief that it was finally over - all the years of planning, stress and uncertainty. It was natural to feel pain watching someone she loved in the arms of another, but now that she knew that she could control herself and wasn't ruled by her former self's hatred and bitterness, she could try to start afresh.

But she wanted to know now that it was finally done.

"Who are you, _what _are you that planned this?"

"_I am the essence of magic itself in its most pure form. I have been dying gradually as time has past, with no light to charge my strength. Now the warlock and his paramour will sustain me and ensure magic endures in this world."_

Morgana let this sink in and wondered if she would continue to hear its voice or have her visions.

"_You will always be sensitive to magic doers but no - that life is over for you now. You can begin anew; all of your energy can be channelled into creating the life you have always wanted to lead, with no more responsibility of waiting for the past to come to life. Be true to yourself and above all – be happy. _

She knew it was for the best and with one last look she quietly closed the door with a click, leaving the two men alone.

*****

Merlin felt blisteringly alive, and outside the window the sun now shone with a radiant glow.

Curling into Arthur's side, he pressed his face into the groove which lay under the stubborn chin and just above the rapidly beating heart.

An arm wrapped around his neck to draw him closer and a heavy thigh swung over him to lock him in place. Yawning and blinking open his eyes, he caught an expression of possessive contentment on his lover's face and he smiled.

It was like coming home.

Finis

*****

Author: Thanks mad theo for beta *hugs* I hope you all enjoyed the ending and thank you loads for reading and reviewing.


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